


For Science

by Fooeyburr



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Foo writes silly things for a change, M/M, Pre-Betrayal, clueless Ford, flustered Bill, misunderstood archaeological methods, that much I can promise, this is going to develop into a full-blown farce
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 09:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12230157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fooeyburr/pseuds/Fooeyburr
Summary: "When in doubt, just lick the damn thing."





	For Science

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a silly ficlet that sprouted from a random archaeology-related Tumblr post by Perlumi. I later decided to turn this into a three-parter and try my hand at a classic farce structure. Wish me luck :D Gonna continue this as soon as I can find the time from my other projects!

* * *

 

”A-ha! Jackpot.”

It was an odd thing to say, seeing how his discovery had nothing to do with gambling. Maybe he’d taken after his muse and his often unnecessarily bombastic way of words.

Ford smiled warmly at the thought of his eccentric bringer of inspiration, and just far he’d come upon his guidance – the tempting glint of gold before his eyes only strengthened his visions of even greater shared achievements in the future. He scraped the ground carefully around the object gleaming under the soil with the edge of his shovel until he could see its outlines, confirming his hunch that had spoken of its very familiar shape for some time now.

What a magnificent finding. The object he’d unearthed was, without a doubt, made in his muse’s image, only adorned with symbols of more power and grace than he could’ve ever imagined. He found himself holding his breath as he lifted the statue from its earthly tomb and started scrubbing it clean with a handful of his slipover. Where had it come from? What meanings had it held to its original sculptor, and why was it buried here, only to be found by Ford what must’ve been centuries later?

Perhaps _that_ was the reason, he then thought. Perhaps the statue had been waiting for him, destined to fall into his hands not long after his muse had appeared to him as a sign of their intertwined fates. Ford understood how laughably self-important this idea was, but it filled his chest with elated pride regardless.

He began to study the statue with boosted enthusiasm. It was rather large and heavy, crafted with an amount of care and precision he could’ve only expected from someone as devoted as himself. For a fleeting moment, he was grateful it had been buried deep enough to convince him its originator had long passed. But how old exactly was this undeniably breathtaking artefact?

The material appeared to be gold; a purchase of precious metal in amounts this notable would surely be recorded somewhere in the town’s archived historical files. If he could somehow verify its purity, he might be able to determine its age and origins as well. He was reminded of the words of a fellow student in Backupsmore, an archeology major who, judging from his speech patterns and oddly sluggish mentality, must’ve been born middle-aged. _“When in doubt, just lick the damn thing._ _”_

He didn’t remember the exact context for this piece of advice, but, well, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

He leaned in towards a spot he’d scrubbed clean, stuck out his tongue –

As if someone had pressed a shutter on reality, the world around him paused in greyscale.

“Cheerio, Brains!” His ears caught the familiar loud notes mere seconds before his muse appeared floating in front of him in a relaxed position, swirling his cane with one leg crossed over the other. “Well, well, well, looks like your hunt has taken you back to square one! And you even found the –“

The cane fell on the ground with a clatter.

“Ah, good evening, Bill”, Ford said and lifted his head from the bowed down position to face his muse with a bright smile. “Perfect timing. I found this mysterious artefact, and wanted to hear your take on its origins. It happens to be a rather intricate portrayal of you, so I thought you might…” He frowned. “Bill?”

For a moment, Ford thought Bill had somehow frozen along with the rest of his mindscape; only the vibrant golden glow he emitted made him stand out from his stagnant surroundings.

“Bill, is everything all right?”

As the six-fingered hand made a concerned motion towards him, the triangular entity suddenly snapped out of his paralyzed state. “Hah! …Hahah!” He clutched at his top corner as if amused, but his laughter came out in shrill, stifled fits. “Whoa, whoa, _whoa!_ H, holy mess, Sixer! At least close the figurative door first, sheesh!”

Ford blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Well, this is – I mean, I… I’m awfully flattered, of course!” Bill hawked, his eye so wide that it was starting to look oddly stretched. “And hey, I don’t blame you, buddo! I’d get ideas too if I was regularly in the close vicinity of someone as dapper as myself! Hah, I can barely look myself in the mirror without getting a funky mood going! And don’t get me wrong, Fordsy, you’re not too painful to look at, either, on a meatsack scale or otherwise! Why did I say that?” he suddenly stammered, fiddling absently with his bowtie while his eye raced through every part of the cave except for where Ford and the statue were. “Whew! Is it just me, or is it getting hot in here?”

“Well, since we’re in my mindscape, technically there should be no temperature to speak of”, said Ford, scratching his head. He had no idea what Bill was so passionately going on about – then again, this definitely wasn’t the first time he couldn’t follow his brilliant muse’s course of thought. “In any case, the statue –“

“The statue!” Bill nearly shrieked, pointing furiously at the artefact Ford was holding. “That’s right, that’s what it is! A statue! Not the real deal! So pardon my French, but it would’ve been nice if you’d asked yours truly first! It’s like this this cheap shiny copy of myself cut in on me!” He crossed his arms and looked the other way. “I’m just saying, IQ! Doesn’t _have_ to be one-sided play-pretend, but whatever floats your goat! Why did I say that?”

Wait. Had he said or done something that had offended his muse? “I’m sorry, Bill”, he spoke unsurely, “but I truly don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me. However, if my actions have upset you, I wish to apologize.”

Bill moved his hands to his sides and stared at him. “Oh yeah? Then out with it, Stanford Pines! Did you or did you not –“ he held a pause, and his gaze wandered off, “– _lick_ the statue?”

“Well, yes, I did.”

“ _Why did you lick the statue?_ ”

Ford frowned in confusion. “To determine its age, of course.”

“Huh?” Bill squinted at him suspiciously. “That’s nonsense! Which admittedly makes for my kind of excuse, but it still won’t fly!”

“No, Bill, it’s a legitimate scientific method commonly used in the field of archaeology”, Ford explained, relieved to see that it all appeared to be just a misunderstanding. “If you need proof, you can find it in my memories. The ones from my college, to be precise.”

“Ugh, _fine_ , just give me a –“ Bill closed his eye, and for a moment his surface flickered with an assortment of Ford’s memories from Backupsmore. The look in his eye was dull and annoyed as he opened it again. “ _Porosity_ , Brainiac! You can tell if the material absorbs moisture by licking it! _Not its age!_ _”_

“Oh! So that is how it worked”, Ford voiced, nodding in understanding. “It makes much more sense, now that I think of it. I, ah, apologize for my own misconception, and the confusion it must’ve caused you.” He held a pause. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’m really rather surprised you did not know this. I was under the impression you knew…”

“Everything?” Bill snorted. “Lesson of the day, IQ. ‘Everything’ means I know every possible meaning for an action there is. Well, your lot sure knows how to make it as obscure as possible! Sometimes it’s nothing short of a gamble! A guy’s got no choice but to go with his gut!”

“But, Bill…” Ford attempted a conciliatory smile. “I still don’t understand. What _did_ you think I was doing?”

“ _Urrgh!_ ” Bill grabbed the rim of his hat and pulled at it in a frustrated manner. “Never mind! Bygones! Figure it out, smart guy! You were two inches off, by the way, next time go for the bowtie! WHY DID I SAY THAT? OH, WHAT THE HELL! NOTHING IS REAL! EVERYTHING IS MEANINGLESS! CAUSALITY IS A LIE! GOTTA GO! MADNESS CALLED! SAYS IT WANTS ITS HOUSE BACK! WHAT CAN I DO! TRUDGE ALONG, BUDDY, I’LL SEE YA WHEN I SEE YA! SELL YOUR STOCK BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE! _BYE!_ ”

His hastily screeched last greeting was still echoing in Ford’s mind when reality around him returned back to normal.

“Go for... the bowtie?” he repeated to himself. After a moment of thoroughly inspecting the bowtie sculpted on the statue and finding nothing out of the ordinary, he shrugged in resignation. His muse truly was a mystery.

He would simply have to ask for a clarification upon their next meeting.


End file.
